


Checkmate

by Talokina



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talokina/pseuds/Talokina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were running through the forest like they had always done. Somehow they always ended up running away from a threat. They had a head start but Bellamy knew that it was melting, so he turned around to see who was slowing them down.</p><p>It was Clarke. Clarke who had stopped running and who seemed to tremble. It was Clarke’s shirt that slowly turned crimson. It was Clarke who had been wounded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr drabble I've forgotten to post here. Inspired by Underbellamy's post. My heart.

They were running through the forest like they had always done. Somehow they always ended up running away from a threat. They had a head start but Bellamy knew that it was melting, so he turned around to see who was slowing them down.

It was Clarke. Clarke who had stopped running and who seemed to tremble. It was Clarke’s shirt that slowly turned crimson. It was Clarke who had been wounded.

“Bellamy…” He barely heard his sister. His mind and heart only said one word: Clarke.

“Go.” His voice sounded hollow. When he saw that they weren’t moving he repeated it. The small, little word could be heard throughout the forest, shouted with so much pain and vehemence.

As he watched his friends leave, he remembered the old greek stories he used to read. Tragedy could be found in it everywhere, lost love and battles, broken hearts and spears. He had never understood it. He did now.

He ran towards Clarke and caught her just in time. He slowly let her sink towards the ground, treating her like the finest China doll. A dagger was jabbed in her side, so deep that Bellamy barely could see the blade.

“Bellamy, leave me. You mustn’t be here when they come.” Clarke whispered and he saw his princess trying to push him away, to make him run. Even now, she tried to protect him.

“I’m not going anywhere without you.” His voice trembled. Clarke’s head was resting on his knees and he was stroking her hair, her face, trying to blend out the wound that was slowly killing her.

“You must.” She sounded stubborn and firm, just like every time when they argued. Bellamy wanted to fight back, to say that there was a way to save her, to save him from this nightmare. There wasn’t.

“I know what you think.” Clarke slowly rose her hand to cup his cheek, giving him the solace he should give her. “There is no way.” Bellamy cursed the world in this moment. He felt like Achilles when he had found Patroclus. Like Orpheus, when he had lost Eurydice.

“I won’t lose you.” Bellamy pressed one hand against the wound, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. He felt tears steam down his face.

“You will.” Clarke replied. “But please Bellamy there is one thing…” She closed her eyes for a moment and he saw her bite her lips. “One last favor I want to ask of you.” Pictures of Atom flashed before his eyes. No. He hadn’t been strong enough to kill a friend. How could he ever kill the girl he loved? Clarke had started crying too and soon they both sobbed. 

“Show me mercy. End my pain.” Clarke begged. Bellamy started to kiss her, kiss her cheek, her lips, and her temple, desperate, hasty kisses. He started humming, humming a lullaby his mother used to sing to him. He felt Clarke relax as he gripped her hand and the dagger.

“Love is strength. Never forget that. We were strong.” Clarke was panting, her red lips a sharp contrast to her white, ashen skin. He pressed a last kiss on her lips, trying to burn this moment into his mind, the feeling of her lips against hers, the smell and scent, no the essence of Clarke Griffin.

“I love you Clarke Griffin.” The last words Clarke Griffin would ever hear. The last words Bellamy Blake would ever say to her. He sank the dagger deeper into Clarke, still humming and holding her hand.

It was done. Clarke Griffin had stopped breathing, surrounded by a pool of blood and a broken rebel king.


	2. Chapter 2

He had never felt so many eyes watching him when he had returned to the camp. The part of him that was still mourning Clarke, still seeing her face before his eyes, bellowed in agony. The other, numb part, felt that it was his responsibility to let the others know what happened.

His face must say enough, because he saw the hope in Raven’s, Octavia’s and so many other eyes fade away.

“Where’s Clarke?” Her mother of course, hadn’t given up the hope. She clung to it, to the possibility that the last member of her family, her daughter, would still be alive.

“Clarke didn’t make it.” The words sounded strange, his own voice so foreign.

Raven started screaming, anguished, shattering crying as she fell into Wick’s arms. Raven and Clarke had been close, no matter the ups and downs of their friendship. It reminded Bellamy of the time he had held her when Finn had died. His sister must have seen it coming, she had seen Clarke fall down, but he still saw the tears around her eyes. She bit her lip and tried to keep a strong face, but Bellamy could see her shaking. Monty and Jasper were hugging, giving each other comfort. Abby’s reaction was the most striking. All colour left her face and first she was stone faced, as if she needed the time to react to it. Then, she turned on her heels and left, probably to mourn alone.

“Where are you going?” Bellamy heard his sister ask, sniffing.

“To bring Clarke home.” Her body was still lying in the forest. He hoped that nobody would follow him. At least that hope was granted.

 

* * *

 

It had been decided to bury Clarke at the cemetery near the drop ship, next to Wells. After everyone had returned from Mount Weather, the delinquents had started to need their own place again. For some it might have been weird, even morbid, to come back to the place where they had killed so many grounders. But after all, the camp had also been the place where they had reached the earth and where they had bonded. And after all, most of them weren’t afraid of ghosts, as they were all haunted in a way.

Bellamy was surprised at the number of people who were gathered here. There was no grounder, except for Lincoln. Nobody had forgiven or forgotten Lexa. People had brought flowers with them to put on Clarke’s grave.

Marcus Kane was doing the eulogy. It might be weird, but he was the most fitting for it. The others, himself included, were still devoured by grief. He finally reached the words every person from the Ark knew and everyone would say.

“May we meet again.”

The people slowly left and Bellamy waited. He waited until Abby, Raven, Monty, Miller and everyone else were gone. He stood still, even after seeing the questioning look on Octavia’s face.

He didn’t have any object to lay on Clarke’s grave. No, but he had words he could give to her. The last words Clarke, when she had been alive, had heard was his love confession. But there was more.

“ _My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong_.” Bellamy had read this poem once on the ark, and unfortunately he had forgotten most of it. But these two sentences had stuck with him. Who would have known that he would tell it to the person he loved, only that she was resting below the ground?

“ _Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.”_ He felt like her death had ripped a part of him with him, draining him of optimism and happiness. He knew that he was needed and that Clarke would want him to go on. He would. He owed it to himself, to Clarke, to his sister, and to everyone.  Because it was the right thing to do and because he wanted to honour her that way. But the Clarke-shaped hole in his chest would stay with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asking myself if I could make this fic even sadder. The answer: funeral scene. And because I wanted to have Bellamy recite some poetry. The poem is Funeral Blues by W.H Auden.


End file.
